


Underneath all of this noise

by winged_mammal



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, F/F, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winged_mammal/pseuds/winged_mammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw keeps getting out of her restraints. Root is not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath all of this noise

**Author's Note:**

> Started as basically a "five times Shaw got out of her restraints, and one time she didn't" fic, and it devolved into 8000 words of porn. Oh well. 
> 
> Title is from the Black Lab song "Bound." This was started before "If Then Else" aired, so let's pretend that didn't happen and this takes place in some nebulous time period when the Samaritan business is all settled. (Alternative title that I oh so cleverly came up with seven months too late: "Bound and Determined.")

Sameen Shaw is a sub.

As aggressive one, to be sure, and not just because you would probably earn a punch to the face if you ever told anyone about it. Power bottom would probably be a more accurate way of describing Shaw’s particular behavior; but then, you have long since learned that it’s best not to try to categorize Shaw as any one thing. Regardless, more often than not you find yourself in the delightful position of being in control of Shaw’s pleasure, and you’re certainly not going to complain about it.

Aside from one minor detail, anyway.

The first time you’re able to devote more time to your encounters than simply enjoying a quick cathartic fuck against a wall, you end up straddling Shaw in a dining room chair after making use of your cover identity’s handcuffs and restraining her hands behind the wooden backrest. Simple, but a classic for a reason. You’re particularly fond of the way your skin tingles with every breath that escapes her lips, her head tipped back over the edge of the chair and her throat bared too temptingly for your nails to resist leaving red marks down its length.

Shaw is achingly wet and clenching around your fingers and you know she is close but you’re rather disinclined to bring this to an end. You slip your fingers out from between her legs and bring them up to massage her breast instead, bending down to press a soothing kiss to gasping lips. The hips below yours rise to seek contact, but you merely tsk at her, a smile playing about your lips.

“ _Root_.” There is that familiar hint of danger in her voice that you had quickly become addicted to.

“Patience, Sameen,” you singsong, and you feel more than hear the growl that rumbles from Shaw’s throat.

“Root, I swear-” You deliver a sharp bite to her shoulder and she thrusts her hips up again as she grunts against the pain.

“You’re not exactly in a position to be making demands, sweetie.” You pull back and smile at her, running your fingertips along her torso. “Why don’t you just sit back and let me-”

A hand at your throat cuts off your words, the warm metal of the cuff dangling off her wrist knocking gently against your sternum. You feel your breath hitch as she glares at you with intent, her free hand coming up to wrap around one of your wrists.

“Finish what you started, Root, or I swear to god I’ll finish it myself.”

You stare her down for a moment, gauging her sincerity. Four seedy encounters, and already Shaw knows the only thing you enjoy more than seeing her come is being the cause of it. Her eyebrow raises in question, and when you don’t immediately reply she relaxes her grip on your wrist and drops her hand between you.

It’s with a sigh and a roll of your eyes that you give in and slap her hand away, immediately burying three fingers inside her and biting away the self-satisfied smirk on her lips. Shaw’s hips grind against your hand along with your thrusts, and she tips her head back and laughs as she comes.

You narrow your eyes. This could become a problem.

~~~

Sameen Shaw is a sub. But when she wants to come, she will find a way.

You learn this over the ensuing weeks, in between saving numbers and kneecapping bad guys and Shaw accidentally letting slip that she cares about you. She swears she meant to say “food,” but the fact that she’s the first to break away from your disbelieving stare belies her protest. You just smile after her as she leaves in a huff and later spend the night worshipping her body, splayed out in front of you with each wrist cuffed separately to the bed posts.

Shaw, of course, escapes both sets of cuffs when it suits her, and flips you over to ride your strap-on at her own pace.

You suppose you should have seen it coming; she had that same glint in her eye, after all, that she had the previous week when you had her bound to a support beam while you devoured her. You’d met her eyes briefly before turning your back for a moment to find your crop, only to find yourself hauled up and pressed against the beam, your hand being drawn down to rub at her clit.

“You really think I couldn’t get out of a constrictor knot?” Shaw had murmured against your throat, her teeth gnashing as you brought her to her peak.

“A girl can hope,” you’d said, but when it comes to Shaw, those hopes have a tendency to be dashed.

You don’t expect much out of the zip tie trick, given that it is only a spur-the-moment solution when you unexpectedly find yourselves with a couple hours to kill while waiting for a number to show. But Shaw lulls you into a false sense of security, gamely going along with you securing her wrists behind her back with a zip tie and bending her over a table as you fuck her. Her moans when you sink to your knees to explore her wetness with your tongue are particularly intoxicating, and you have to pull back for a moment to gather your composure. Which shortly proves to be a mistake, when one swift movement has Shaw’s arms swinging in an arc against her hip as she turns, the zip tie snapping easily in two, and a hand quickly tangles itself in your hair to pull your face back where it belongs.

You can’t even bring yourself to be all that upset about it. Shaw tastes too damn good.

The leather-and-velcro cuffs, though; you expect more out of those. They were made for this, after all. Shaw has delightfully nimble fingers, but even she can’t bend her wrist at the angle that would be necessary to pull the velcro free from her spread eagle position on the bed. Which is definitely one of your favorite places for her to be, if you could only get her to stay put for once. 

The cuffs seem to be doing the job well enough so far. You’ve spent the better part of an hour coaxing Shaw’s body to the brink of orgasm and bringing her back down before she gets there - you let her come once, to stack the odds in your favor, and since then it’s been a constant cycle of pleasure and denial and pleas that are music to your ear. 

(“I don’t beg,” Shaw would say. “Of course you don’t,” you would agree, if only to convince her to let you keep going.)

Shaw’s legs are wrapped around your back and she’s demanding more even as you’re already thrusting four fingers inside of her. You look up at her from your place nibbling at the skin between her breasts.

“More?” You curl the fingers inside her to emphasize the point. Shaw only nods and thrusts her hips in response, and you drop your forehead to her chest and draw in a shuddered breath at the image that fills your mind. Your fingers continue to move in a languid rhythm as you sit back to kneel between her legs, and it’s only after you’ve heightened the anticipation too much for you to possibly not go through with this that you remember you’d left the lube in the living room.

You lean forward and peck her cheek. “Hold that thought,” you murmur, and hop off the bed before she can process what you’ve said. You ultimately find the bottle you’re looking for under the coffee table; she is absolutely dripping wet and you suppose it’s possible she could take your hand without any help, but you have long refused to compromise on Shaw’s safety, and this is no exception. You’re in the process of uncapping the bottle and squeezing some into your palm when you get back to the bedroom and stop short in the doorway. 

Not only has Shaw managed to free herself, but she’s already in the middle of the orgasm that was supposed to be yours to give her. Both of her hands are working between her legs and when she notices your presence she merely gives you a look like you should have expected this.

You probably should have. You pout anyway.

~~~

Sameen Shaw is a sub. And tonight, you’re going to make her remember that.

The past few minutes have been surprisingly lacking in complaints while Shaw lies naked and blindfolded and you make the final alterations to the velcro handcuffs from the previous week. You suspect it’s mainly curiosity that keeps her silent, although the fact that she’s not actively being denied an orgasm probably helps. The unmistakable sound of your finishing touch, however, has Shaw casting her head around in suspicion.

“What the hell are you doing with duct tape?”

You smile and tear off another piece of tape to wrap around the second restraint before answering. “It’s just an insurance policy,” you say, and toss the roll away before climbing onto the bed to kneel between her legs. You reach up to pull the blindfold away from her eyes. “I don’t think it’ll be necessary.”

Blinking against the sudden light, Shaw squints up at you before craning her neck to inspect your handiwork. You take no small amount of satisfaction from the way her brow furrows in disbelief at the bonds circling her wrists. “What did you do?”

“Rare earth magnets, super glue, velcro, paracord, and duct tape.” She looks back up at you like you can’t possibly be serious, and you can’t help but shake your head and smile as you lean forward a little, your hands pressing into her thighs. “If you make it out of those before I let you, then I’ll concede this little game you’ve been playing.”

Shaw settles her head back with a smirk, utterly unrepentant. “And what if we get a number while I’m all tied up like this?”

“Number or not, there’s only one way out of those cuffs now.” You gesture to the rotary tool lying on the table beside the bed, far out of reach. “Hope they’re comfortable.”

“Can’t complain.” Shaw is still entirely too cocky given her position, but then, that’s part of her charm. “So what’s the plan here?”

You give her a smile and a hum and settle back on your shins, letting your fingers trail over her skin. Your head tilts a little as your eyes roam over her body and take careful note of the still-healing cuts and bruises that dot her torso. “You like to be fucked, Shaw,” you tell her blithely, and counter her mock surprise with a raised eyebrow of your own. “You like to give up control, and you like it when I take it.”

Her eyes follow you as you rise from the bed, but she remains silent. Your fingers make short work of the buttons of your shirt, and you think you see her hands clench a little at her restraints when you pull it off and drop it to the floor, your hands coming to rest at your hips. “You’re just too impatient sometimes, you know?”

“My time is valuable.”

“You’re impatient,” you repeat. “Too used to getting your way.” Your bra falls to the floor next to your shirt and the rest of your clothes follow soon after. You bite your lip to hide your amusement at the way she’s unapologetically leering at you, and you swing a leg over her hips and come to rest on your hands by her shoulders, looking down into her eyes already gone dark with arousal. “You’re going to get fucked tonight, Sam.”

Shaw raises her head an inch or so. “Kinda figured that one out already, Root.”

A finger to her forehead pushes her back down and you continue as though she hadn’t interrupted, keeping your eyes on hers. “I’m going to take you slow, and hard,” your fingers trace patterns in her skin as you slowly pull away from her, “and I’m not going to let you come until I think you’ve earned it.” 

You’ve come to rest against her thighs now, and you let your hands fall against her hips with a light smack. “And in case you were wondering? After all the little stunts you’ve pulled, it’s going to take you a lot to earn it.”

Shaw’s arms move in what you imagine would be a shrug if she weren’t tied down. “Do your worst.”

You can’t help but smile at that. She’s always been a little shit, but she’s yours, and she has no idea what she’s in for. You give her an absent nod and scratch lightly at the skin beneath your fingertips. “I have to admit, there’s something about seeing you like this that excites me.” You flick your hair out of your eyes as you pause to consider. “I think it’s watching your muscles strain. I do love your guns, Sameen.”

She rolls her eyes at you and you get a wicked gleam in yours as you lift yourself to balance on your knees over her, and if you stretch your back solely to draw her attention to your breasts, well, you can’t be blamed for enjoying her reaction.

“In fact,” you continue, your arms stretching over your head and slowly coming back down to let your hands roam over your chest, “I used to think about them a lot before we got together. When I was feeling _lonely_.” You give her an exaggerated pout at this, and your right hand trails ever lower down your torso, Shaw’s watchful eyes following its path. “Do you know what I was doing when I thought about them?”

Shaw’s gaze flicks up to yours for a brief moment before returning to your hand. “I can take a guess.”

“I think you would guess right.” With that, you let your hand dip between your legs, and the involuntary breath you let out at the sensation of your fingers dancing along your slick flesh is matched by one of Shaw’s own. Not that she would admit it, of course.

Silence descends upon the room then, occasionally broken by a breathy laugh or stifled whimper as your fingers draw circles around your clit. The metal of her restraints rattles when you slip two fingers inside yourself, and your lips curl as her mouth opens slightly like she’s chasing a stray morsel of food. Her eyes are fixed on your hands, flitting between the one that’s now curling inside you and the one that’s palming a breast. Your head falls back and you bare your throat to her, letting out a long, low moan. You’ve always tended to make a lot of noise when you’re near orgasm, and it didn’t take long to discover how much Shaw enjoyed hearing it.

The fingers inside you quicken their thrusts, and the hand at your breast drops down to rub at your clit in a rapid rhythm. You nearly lose your balance and her hands jerk as though she intends to catch you, but her bonds hold fast and the muscles in your abdomen clench as you bring yourself over the edge at the sight of her straining against them.

You slow the pace of your fingers as you come down from your high, and finally you withdraw with a shudder and let yourself fall forward a little, her skin glistening with your wetness where you’re resting your hands on her stomach. You take a moment to catch your breath, watching her watch you.

“Mmm,” you hum, and straighten your back. “That was nice.”

Shaw narrows her eyes at you. “No kidding.”

“Would you like a taste?” You lift your hand and waggle your still-slick fingers in the air, and though she is silent there’s no mistaking the desire in her eyes. With a smile you shift your legs forward and lean over her, offering her your fingers just out of reach of her mouth. She stares at you for a long moment and you stare impassively back, and when she finally gives in it’s with a huff of air before she lifts her head and runs her tongue along your middle finger. 

Her eyes fall closed and your hand remains still as she moves her tongue to your ring finger, and your breath hitches when she takes them both into her mouth, sucking lightly at your flesh. She scrapes her teeth against them as she pulls her head back and you feel a tingle working its way up your arm to spread to the rest of your body. Her head bobs back and forth, continuing to tease your fingers with her lips and swirls of her tongue, until you’re compelled to tear your hand away and replace it with your lips.

She grunts into your mouth and tries to deepen the kiss, but you keep it light and merely savor the taste of yourself on her lips. You let your tongue meet hers for only a moment before pulling away entirely, sitting back on your shins straddling her abdomen.

Shaw licks her lips and looks up at you, her earlier cockiness easily returning to her. “Gotta say, Root, I’m not seeing much bad here.”

“Oh, Sam.” You can’t resist the smirk that comes over you. You shake your head in a vaguely condescending manner and tap your fingers against her sternum. “That was just a hint.”

With a pointed grind of your hips against her stomach - to which Shaw responds with a hastily bitten off gasp - you bend over the side of the bed and retrieve the crop that’s leaning against the mattress. You adjust your position to kneel with your knees by her hip for better access to the length of her body, and she looks pleased as she watches you test the flex of the handle.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she says, shifting on the bed in what she would steadfastly deny is an excited wiggle.

You guide the leather end of the crop up to her neck and let it trail along her jawline before settling it at her chin and tilting her head up as you lean in to meet her eyes. “Be careful what you wish for, Sameen,” you murmur, and pull the crop away with a gentle flick at her chin.

Shaw is, perhaps unsurprisingly, quite fond of pain. You learned this the first time you had sex, when her response to you biting hard enough at her neck to draw blood was to come all over your hand. There’s a reason so many of your encounters are precipitated by her having a knock-down drag-out fight with some goon or another; the rush of adrenaline and the heady swell of pain combine to drive her to follow her baser instincts, and she often pulls you on top of her before you get a chance to patch her up.

Unfortunately for her, she won’t be getting much pain tonight.

The leather of the crop glides along her skin as you move it down her chest. She’s already started to breathe more quickly in anticipation, and you hold back your smirk as you flick the crop back and land a blow on her breast that’s more of a tickle than anything else. You run the leather over the spot in a soothing motion and pointedly ignore the glare you know she’s giving you. 

You cover most of her chest in this manner, delivering gentle slaps of the crop to her flesh and soothing them as though they were battle wounds, and although it’s nothing like the pain you know she craves, Shaw is having trouble disguising the arousal that’s coursing through her. She restrains herself from making any noise that would betray her agitation at your teasing, so it’s with no small amount of satisfaction that you draw the crop back and strike a soft blow just over her clit and are rewarded with an uncontrolled gasp. You repeat the blow, a little harder this time, and Shaw jerks against her bonds as she hisses out her pleasure.

Her legs spread open at your gentle prompting with the tip of the crop, flicking back and forth between her thighs until they’re at the distance you want. You give the same attention to the muscles in her legs as you had given to her chest, and when you return the leather to her clit and let it trail lightly downward you are unsurprised when it comes back glistening with her wetness. Her chest is heaving from the stimulation and you give her one last smack to the curve of her ass before tossing the crop aside and returning your fingers to your own clit.

“You always look so yummy when you’re riled up like this,” you say, your fingers continuing their ministrations as you move to straddle her hips again. You lean back and hold yourself up with a hand on her knee, offering your body up for her to watch as you give yourself the pleasure she knows she’s not going to get any time soon. The sound of your wetness borders on the obscene as you fuck yourself with abandon, letting yourself give in to the sensations and your body twitches and gasps in what’s only mostly an attempt to get a reaction from her.

Her hands clench against the rope she’s fastened to and you dig your nails into her flesh as you come with a shudder. “Root,” she growls, eyeing your fingers as they pull away from you.

“Sorry, Shaw,” you shake your head and lean over her with your hands on her shoulders, “no can do.” With that, you drop a quick peck on her lips before settling your chest on hers and tilting her head to the side to expose the muscle in her neck. Your tongue trails along its length and you delight in the sweat that you’ve managed to make her exert already, and when you reach its terminus behind her ear you bite down on the lobe without warning. She bites back a gasp and you smile against her skin as you trail back down her neck with your tongue, pulling at the occasional nibble of flesh with your teeth.

Your hands smooth along the length of her arms, alternating a massage of her muscles with a feather-light caress of your nails, and when she finally lets out a groan you follow the rumbles in her throat and nip at its ridges as her head tips back to allow the touch. A deep bite to the flesh above her collarbone has Shaw moaning into your good ear, which you reward by leaving long scratch marks up her arms as you trail your fingers back to her shoulders.

Her legs push against the mattress to try to gain some friction against your stomach, but you shift away from her with a chuckle and another bite to her neck. You drop a line of kisses from the dip in her throat down to her sternum and she actually twitches when your teeth graze a nipple before you move away to lick at the curve of her breast. You can feel her gaze on you as your mouth works at her skin, willing you to give her something more, and you bite your lip, smile at her with your eyes, and ignore her completely.

The flesh under your lips is hot and flushed and entirely too tempting to resist tasting as much of it as you can, but luckily for you she’s not going anywhere. Her torso is all curves and hard muscle and you snake your head all along it, your tongue and lips and teeth drawing random patterns over its expanse. On occasion you pull away and blow a stream of cool air over the path of wet skin you’ve left behind, taking pleasure in the goosebumps that form in its wake.

Shaw’s eyes have fallen closed as she focuses on the sensations you’re creating within her, and really there’s no resisting the opportunity to lean down and close your mouth over a nipple, your tongue flicking and swirling rapidly over the flesh. Her back arches into you and your hands press into her sides to hold her down as you take the nipple between your teeth and give it a tug when you pull away.

“ _Fuck_ , Root,” she breathes, her head pressed back into the pillow.

“Not yet, Sameen,” you remind her, and turn to give the same attention to her other breast. She writhes under you as your tongue works against her, flicking at her nipple as though it were her clit and you were trying to drive her over the edge. You open your mouth to take in as much of her breast as you can get and her lungs take in ragged breaths that stutter and gasp when you swing a leg over hers and grind your cunt into her thigh.

Your hips work in circles over her thigh, her skin already slick and pressing up into you as she tries to take what pleasure she can get from you. The moan that rises up your throat is muffled against her skin, your ministrations at her breast unceasing even as you come undone around her. You support yourself on an elbow at her side and your free hand closes around her other breast and you hadn’t planned on letting yourself get this caught up in everything but her increasing inability to hold herself back is intoxicating and the solid warmth of her thigh beneath you feels too good to resist.

Another sharp bite to her breast has her shouting out along with you as you come, your teeth gnashing ineffectually against her skin as you drop your forehead to her chest and slow the pace of your hips. You lay against her for a moment and feel her leg press up into you in an attempt to entice you into engaging in more two-sided activities. You slap a hand against her leg in admonishment.

“Well,” you say cheerfully, flipping your hair back as you shift to sit on your shins between her legs, “that was fun.”

She swallows and you drink in the sight of her throat working before she tilts her head back down and looks at you. “It’s three nothing now, Root.” Her eyes narrow when you tip your head, feigning ignorance. “Don’t you think it’s time to even the score a little?”

“Shaw,” you sigh. “This isn’t about keeping score. There’s something bigger at play here.”

Her breathing has become more even, and you envy her control even as you want nothing more than to see it shatter. “Teaching me a lesson?”

“No.” You let your fingers play on the slick patch you left behind on her thigh.

“Then what?”

You smile in lieu of an answer and give her a noncommittal hum as you rise, unfolding your legs over the side of the bed in a way you know she can’t resist staring at. “You’ll see.” 

She grunts in response and watches you as you hunt around in the bedside table. The anticipatory gleam in her eyes when she sees what you’ve retrieved is almost comical and you can’t help but tease her, waving the short ridged plug around in the air as you toss the lube and a black nitrile glove onto the bed next to her. “So eager.”

“Yeah, whatever, Root.” She spreads her legs enough to let you sit crosslegged between them with her knees in the air and you tug the glove onto your right hand with a snap. “Just get on with it.”

Your index finger draws absent circles over her abdomen. “Did I ever tell you about the day I bought these gloves, Sameen?”

Shaw sighs and settles back against her pillow and sounds not at all enthused about your story. “Do tell.”

“It was a little over two months ago,” you tell her, your finger still tracing concentric circles. “We’d spent a couple nights together at that point. They were all quick and neither of us ever stayed after, but I had a feeling we’d stick it out sooner rather than later. So I figured I should get some… supplies.” Her hips twitch when your finger dips down between her legs, but you merely trace the curve inside her thigh. “It’s always good to be prepared, you know.”

“Admirable.”

“I thought so.” Your left hand pushes her leg back a bit and you lock your eyes onto hers when you slip your finger inside her. She’s incredibly wet and her heat blazes around your finger even through the glove and her walls clench around you when you hold your finger still for too long. “Anyway,” you continue, making shallow thrusts inside her, “I’d already picked out a few toys when this really helpful store clerk reminded me that even if they’re monogamous, lesbian couples should still have a supply of gloves around for safe sex practices.”

You curl your finger up against her g-spot and she shudders as her hips rise to meet your touch. “Root…”

“Or bi- or pansexual, whatever the case may be. You know what I mean.” Another finger slides in alongside the first and you press your free hand into her hip to hold her down. “So I found the shelf with the gloves, picked out a box, and was about to go pay for everything when the Machine whispered into my ear that you have a latex allergy.”

Shaw stops writhing against you at that and gapes up at you in disbelief. “The Machine’s been interfering with our sex life?”

“I’d hardly call that interfering, Sam. You really should thank her.” Harold doesn’t know about that particular incident, but you’ve been itching for the opportunity to tell him and see how he wraps his mind around it. “She may have also pointed me to the hobby shop where I found the magnets and glue for your handcuffs, but that could have just been static.”

Your fingertips press against her g-spot again and she lets out a groan that quickly becomes an expression of disappointment when you withdraw from her and examine the glistening wetness that coats your glove. Deeming it acceptable, you quirk your eyebrow at her and draw your hand down to press your index finger against her ass.

“I’m going to need you to relax now,” you murmur, and push your finger gently inside. Shaw’s moan is delightfully wanton, her muscles clenching hot and tight around you. Your finger slips in easily with the lubrication she’d provided, and soon you’re buried inside her up to your knuckle. You withdraw a little before pushing back in and as much as you love having your fingers deep inside her cunt, there’s definitely something to be said for the way you can feel her clamp down around every inch of you when you take her this way.

Accordingly, you give her a few more thrusts before withdrawing entirely, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting to the small whimper of loss she makes at that. Your left hand fumbles for the bottle of lube that had fallen against her side and you make quick work of spreading a generous amount over your first two fingers. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moans, long and drawn out as both of your fingers press into her ass, and you push in and pull back out a few times before you add more lube for good measure. Your rhythm begins in earnest now, long slow strokes inside her, savoring every bit of her heat and the way her body moves against you as it seeks more more more. 

“Do you know what I love about your body, Sameen?” She absently shakes her head. You deliver a particularly sharp thrust and her back arches as she cries out. “It’s the way you absolutely love to get fucked like this,” your free hand glides up to press over the slight swell of her stomach, your thumb teasing down toward her clit but never touching, “but if I never touch you anywhere else, then you can never, ever come.”

Her eyes are wrenched shut and her hips are driving against you as your fingers continue to work inside her, and it’s with a careful stealthy hand that you retrieve the toy from her side. It’s solid silicone, a cross between beads and a tapered plug, and after the first time you’d used it on her she’d thrown away all of your other anal toys. You hold its flared end between your shins, spread lube along its length, and bite your lip in anticipation as you guide it into position.

Your fingers thrust twice more inside her before you pull out without warning, and just as quickly you push the first section of the plug inside her. She laughingly shouts out a string of curses and pulls at her restraints at the intrusion, and when you pull the toy back out and thrust it back in to stimulate the ring of muscle her hips jerk with abandon. And _oh_ , there’s that loss of control you’d wanted to see. She’s let herself become awash in the sensations you’re providing to her and the sight of her flushed skin and heaving chest is exhilarating.

You shift the plug to your gloved hand and push the second section in past her entrance even as your free hand comes up to tease her clit with light, gentle circles. Her mouth falls open in a silent moan and she stares unseeing at the ceiling and you start up a thrusting rhythm with the toy inside her, carefully noting the rapidly increasing erratic breaths she’s taking in. You love her like this, all gasps and moans and straining muscles, and when your thumb presses harder against her clit she twitches in a way you’re all too familiar with.

“Sorry, Sam,” you say, though you doubt she heard you over her own noises. With a final flick of your thumb you withdraw the toy and pull both of your hands away from her entirely. It takes her a moment to realize you’re not coming back, and when she does her eyes fly open and she looks at you in accusation.

“What the hell, Root?” Her breath is labored and her pupils blown, and you don’t know if she’s ever been as worked up as this before. Certainly not by your hand.

“I told you you had to earn it,” you remind her, and lean over to set the plug and lube on the bedside table. The glove gets tugged off your hand and tossed aside as you readjust to straddle her waist again. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

Shaw bares her teeth for a moment as she struggles against her restraints. They rattle uselessly against the bed and she gives them one last frustrated tug before she narrows her eyes at you. “You want me to beg, is that it?”

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time,” you tease, perhaps unwisely. She opens her mouth to object but you press a finger to her lips and shush her. “But that’s beside the point. The point is, you’re too goal-oriented sometimes, Sameen.”

Her head shakes your finger away. “I didn’t hear you complaining about that when it saved your ass so many times.”

“No, I know.” Warmth spreads through you at the memories and you lean down to press a gentle kiss to her lips, resisting her attempts to deepen it as you pull back slightly, still bent over her. “It’s an admirable quality most of the time. But sometimes, it makes you impatient. You lose sight of the more important things.”

Shaw raises an eyebrow and blows a tuft of your hair out of her eye. “More important than saving your ass?”

Sometimes you wonder if she knows just how insufferably charming you find her casual concern for you to be. You close your eyes against the swell of emotion and kiss her again, more deeply this time, and Shaw, to her credit, responds appropriately. The kiss lingers for long moments and when you finally pull away and straighten your back you bite your lip and your eyes flutter open to find her watching you with a quiet curiosity.

“I’m not questioning your motivations when we’re on a mission, Sameen. I’m talking about when we’re here together, like this.” You wave your hand between you and let it drop to her stomach, her muscles twitching as you start scratching lightly with your nails. “It’s not just about orgasms, you know.”

Shaw snorts and you interrupt your scratching to flick her. “I seem to remember you singing a different tune on more than one occasion.”

She smirks when you roll your eyes. “Sometimes, yes, we’ve got some pent-up energy and we just need to get it out. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You lean forward a bit in emphasis. “That’s also not what I meant.”

“Then what, Root?”

“Sometimes, it’s not about the orgasm.” You press your fingers into her abdomen in a light massage, rubbing circles in her still-tense muscles. “It’s about the build-up, the pleasure you get along the way... us being here together without anyone talking in our ears, not even the Machine.” She looks surprised at this, and your thumbs trace along her hip bones as you nod at her unspoken question. “It’s about the absolute trust that you’re giving me, that I don’t think you’ve ever given anyone else. You like for me to take control for a reason, Sameen. Do you know why I think that is?”

Shaw merely grunts, shifting her hips under you. Your hands expand their exploration of her chest as you continue, scratching and massaging and trailing patterns between her breasts. “I think you know all that. You feel that connection and you _want_ to feel it, but it’s not something you’re used to feeling and you don’t know what to do with it. So you let me take control, because you know I feel it too and you trust me with it. And you let me make you feel.”

You smile down at her and shift to give your hands space to roam along her thighs, her guarded eyes never leaving yours. “But sometimes you react against what you’re feeling. You realize what you’re doing and you shut it down and shut me out and get yourself off because that’s safe and familiar. I get it. Really, I do.” You drop your gaze from hers and focus instead on a spot on her chest as your fingers trail back up her legs. “For a long time I lost my faith. In humanity, and… everything, really. We were all just bad code, not worth anything. Then I found the Machine, and She gave me a purpose, and for the first time, I really _knew_ something. That no matter what, I could trust the Machine, and she could always trust me.

“And then there was you.” A finger trails up between Shaw’s legs and brushes against her clit and she shudders. Your eyes flick back up to hers but you can’t read her expression. Not that that’s anything new. “The Machine gave me so much, and now… If I ever had to make a choice between saving you and saving Her, I can’t imagine a scenario where I wouldn’t pick you. And that’s terrifying.”

Shaw takes in a gasp of air as you slide two fingers inside her, slow and deep, and begin a languid rhythm. “So I get it. It’s simpler to pretend this isn’t about anything more than getting release. But I know you care about me, because you told me, even if you didn’t mean to. And I know you trust me, because you let me do this,” you gesture to the cuffs around her wrists with your left hand as your right continues its work, your fingers no longer thrusting but now simply curling a teasing pressure inside her. You feel her legs move beneath you, restless, and despite the increasing hitch in her breath she still merely watches you.

“It's just that final leap. I'm not asking you to give me anything more than you can give. I just want you to accept what you already feel.” She clenches around your fingers when your thumb moves up to her clit, and you lean down on your elbow to press a kiss to her breast. “Can you do that for me, Sameen?” You murmur against her skin and curl your fingers more forcefully inside her. “Can you just be here with me and trust me to take care of you?”

Shaw is silent, though you can hear her heart drum erratically when you turn your head to kiss down her sternum. You’re just about to drag your teeth across her breast when she finally breaks the silence in a low voice.

“Get me out of these cuffs, Root.”

You freeze in place and glance up at her, unsure of her intentions.

“ _Taser_ , Root,” she says, calm but firm, and you rear back as though burned at the use of the safeword you’d jokingly suggested long ago but neither of you have ever used. You scramble off the bed to retrieve the rotary tool and barely notice her eyes on you as you will your hands to stop shaking from the panic you’re trying to ignore and start cutting through the layers of glue and tape and rope keeping the cuff attached to her left wrist. The sudden silence after you break through and drop the tool onto the bed to unwrap the velcro and protective gauze from her wrist is jarring, and you swear you can hear the blood rush through even your deaf ear.

Shaw remains still as you climb over her to free her other hand, and when you are finally finished you sit back, kneeling next to her as she rubs her wrists and all you can think is _fuck_. The word sounds off on repeat through your head and you’re only dimly aware of her sitting up and scooting closer to you, so it’s something of a surprise when you feel fingers threading through the hair at the base of your neck, turning your head toward her, and you only have a brief second to look into her eyes betraying annoyance and amusement and something like affection, then she’s kissing you.

Her lips are gentle against yours and you feel your breathing hitch and begin to calm, soothed by the fingers in your hair and the hand on your hip. She hums a little when you’re finally able to react against the rapid mood swings and return the kiss, leaning into her touch when her thumb brushes against your cheek. When she finally breaks the kiss she doesn’t pull away, and although your eyes are closed you can feel her mouth moving as though she is trying to work out something to say. 

Ultimately she elects to remain silent, and falls back onto the bed, pulling you along with her. Her fingers leave blazing trails of heat along your skin as they fall away from you, her hands moving to grip the bars of the headboard as she pointedly settles her arms on the pillow over her head. Your head cocks back in question.

“Yeah,” is all she says, but for Shaw, it may as well have been a soliloquy. You smile down at her, your chest full to bursting with emotion that even you don’t dare put a name to. She raises an eyebrow, telling you to get on with it, and you let out a breathy laugh as you lean down to kiss her. 

Warmth suffuses through you as your body covers hers and she gasps into your mouth when your fingers slip back inside her, resuming their slow steady thrusts. Your teeth tug at her lip when you pull away to devote your attention to her neck, her head dutifully turning to give you better access, and your mouth works at her flesh as steadily and gently as your fingers build pressure inside her. Her wet heat clenches around you with every movement, but still you refuse to give her more, letting the firm force of your fingertips against her g-spot build upon itself.

The ridges of her throat move under your tongue as she lets out silent moans, her head tipped back and eyes closed and her biceps straining as she pulls at the headboard. Your mouth travels along her neck, to her ear and back down her chin to kiss her again; this is the most relaxed either of you have ever been when on the brink of orgasm, you’re fairly certain, and there’s a certain sense of power that rushes through you at the thought of getting her there with such a simple gesture.

Your thumb wanders back to her clit to rub small circles around its edges, and it takes only a few more seconds for her to tense against you, moaning into your kiss as she comes. The headboard creaks against the force she’s exerting on it and her muscles clamp around your fingers as you keep stroking her through her orgasm, reveling in her shudders and spasms and the heaving of her chest against yours.

When the waves seem to start to subside, you slow your movements inside her and pull away from her lips with a grin playing about yours. “I think you’ve finally earned it, Sameen,” you murmur, and she has only a moment to open her eyes and look at you before you push your fingers back inside her and begin fucking her in earnest. She shouts out at the sudden rush of pleasure and her spine arches off the bed, her hands pushing against the mattress before coming up and clawing at your back.

The sounds she is making as your hand thrusts inside her are obscene and you’re nowhere near strong enough to resist adjusting yourself to grind against her thigh. She feels what you’re doing and moves her hands to your hips, her nails cutting into your skin as she guides you in a rhythm to match that of your hand. Your teeth dig into her neck, leaving a trail of marks on her skin and a particularly sharp bite has her gasping into your ear. “ _Fuck_ , Root.”

“That’s the idea, Sam.” You chuckle against her skin, which quickly gets cut off into a sharp cry of pleasure when she leans her head up and bites down on your neck. You grind yourself harder against her thigh and her head falls back with a groan.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” she breathes, and you know that under any other circumstances she’d have hauled you up and started devouring you by now. She’s too far gone now though, and you simply hum in acknowledgment in her ear before you run your tongue along its shell. Her hands lose their rhythm at your hips, able only to dig into your flesh as she loses her focus on anything but the spark that’s building within her at your fingertips. 

“Come on, Sameen,” you gasp, your bodies writhing against each other in sweat-slicked desperation. “You earned it. Take it.” 

Her hips jerk against your hand and the erratic stimulation proves to be too much for you to handle, your orgasm overpowering your senses and you only just have enough presence of mind to maintain the thrusts of your hand as you cry out and bury your face in her neck. You shudder against her as she spasms beneath you, letting out a string of obscenities and digging her fingers into your ass, pulling you impossibly closer as she comes. You both grind against each other a few moments longer until finally you let yourself collapse onto her and her hands fall away from you in boneless exhaustion. 

Gradually your heart rate approaches something like normal and you become aware of the unpleasant stickiness of sweaty skin against sweaty skin. You can only find the energy to wiggle enough to slide partly off of her, Shaw pushing at your hip in ineffectual assistance. You end up on your side against her, your head resting on her arm and a hand on her stomach. It's dangerously close to cuddling, but she doesn't need to know that. 

You lie there in pleasant silence for a long while, tracing along the goosebumps that arise as the sweat evaporates from her skin. Abruptly she lets out a huff and you glance up to find her smirking at you. 

"After all that," she says, shaking her head, "you _still_ came before I did."

"I'll make it up to you later," you mumble, your face pressed against her chest. 

She hums noncommittally and fiddles with the remnants of the restraints left on the bed. "You want to tell me how long you've had a fucking _Dremel_ in the bedroom?" 

"I just got it at the hobby shop the other day."

"The hobby shop that the Machine sent you to."

"She might have." Shaw hums and falls silent. You think for a moment that she's going to let you fall asleep, but you’re jolted back into awareness when her chest vibrates as she laughs to herself. "What?" 

"Tell you what, Root. I pretend I don't realize what you're doing lying there against me, if you promise me one thing."

She's really too comfortable a pillow for you to not at least consider her offer. "What's that?" 

"Make sure I'm there to see Finch's reaction when you tell him that his Machine is a sex pervert."


End file.
